The Italian's Virgin Acquisition

‘They’re okay if you leave them alone.’ She handed back the velvet box. ‘Thank you, but I can’t take this.’ She sounded ungracious, and she hadn’t intended to, but she was a little disconcerted at his insight into her personality. She usually did try to make the best of bad situations.

‘Why can’t you take it?’

‘Well, for a start I believe this is usually the kind of thing you give after the relationship has ended; and for another it won’t suit my complexion.’

‘I bought it to suit your complexion.’

He had bought it? Not Paula?

‘Well, there you go.’ Her throat felt tight. ‘You do fall short on some things. I’ll alert the press. I can see the caption now: Sebastiano Castiglione, megalomaniac, human after all. It’d sell a few papers, don’t you think?’

‘What I think is that you have a very smart mouth and need to be put over someone’s knee.’

A hot flush flooded Poppy’s face as he glared at her. ‘Not yours,’ she murmured huskily, fighting the urge to squirm in her seat.

‘You are turning out to be one of the most exasperating women I have ever met,’ he muttered. ‘Anyone would think I was handing you tinted marbles tied together with string.’

‘That would be better. It would at least match my outfit.’

Without responding to her pithy comment, Sebastiano clamped his hand around her wrist. Before Poppy could take exception he’d propelled her to her feet and frog-marched her down the plane in front of him.

His touch sent tingles up and down her arm and she frowned. ‘You have to stop doing that.’

He pushed open a door and ushered her through it. ‘Doing what?’

Taking charge of her body. ‘Grabbing me as if I’m yours to push around.’

‘I’m not pushing you around.’

Poppy held up her hand and his came with it. ‘Exhibit A, Your Honour.’

Sebastiano scowled and released her wrist. ‘Exhibit B would be you being contrary. But at some point you have to get used to my touch. It might as well be before we land.’

‘Get used to your touch?’

Just the thought of it sent her senses into an alarmed spin. She had an image of him stripping the clothes from her body, and then his from his own, and it wasn’t a bad image.

Poppy took a step back and rubbed at her wrist, her eyes riveted to the enormous silk-covered bed that dominated the luxurious room. Before she could prevent herself, her eyes flew to his with apprehension. If he touched her now, if he kissed her as she had dreamt of him doing all week, would she have the wherewithal to deny him?

‘No need to look at me like that,’ he rasped. ‘I meant in public. It will look a little odd if you flinch or cover me in coffee every time I get too close to you.’

Poppy took a minute to think about where her head was at, reminding herself that she was here not because he wanted her here, but because he needed her here. Which didn’t mean she had to give into his every demand. Especially if she wanted to maintain her sense of self. ‘Then don’t get too close to me,’ she said matter-of-factly.

As if he was completely exasperated with her, he shook his head. ‘I brought you in here because I’ve organised some things for you, and you might as well sort through what you want here rather than cause a scene at the villa.’

Poppy followed his line of sight and noticed a row of glossy carrier bags with couture names stacked neatly along the wall. She frowned. ‘What things?’

‘Clothes. Shoes. Handbags.’ He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Things women need.’ He frowned. ‘I texted Paula on the way to the airport. She took care of it.’

Heated embarrassment filled Poppy’s cheeks

. So that was the reason their take-off had been delayed. He couldn’t have made it any plainer that she was beneath him and she couldn’t deny the ripple of hurt that passed through her. ‘Really?’ She strolled over to the first bag and opened it up. Could a girl feel any more inept than she did already?

Carelessly pulling the first item she touched out of one of the shiny bags, she unwrapped the tissue paper and held up an exquisite blue skirt. ‘A skirt. Thanks. I never would have thought to pack one.’

‘I had to guess your size,’ he said, a little discomfited. ‘I hope it fits.’

Poppy smiled serenely. She intended to make him feel more than discomfited by the time she finished with him.